30. In Oblivion

A cold drop hit my forehead, rolled down my temple and got lost in my tangled hair. I opened my eyes and stared at the grey sky peeking through the tops of the tall trees. Few but large raindrops were falling from the leaves of the maples and poplars, so I hurried to find more shelter so I wouldn't get soaked.

Dry branches and last year's autumn leaves rustled under my feet as I tried to get to my feet. But the weakness from the president's magic still lingered, so I just sat back, breathed in the fresh forest air and looked around.

I didn't notice Grant at first, as he was sleeping with his head against the trunk of a tree. But as soon as I crawled over to him, he lifted his eyelids and looked at me with a blank stare.

“And you're here?” he asked me colourlessly, as if he didn't want to see me at all.

I would have been hurt by his indifference, but that wasn't what was bothering me at the moment.

“Where are we?”

“In the Labyrinths of Oblivion.”

I let out an involuntary sigh of horror. Still, Rizor Circul is a terrible man. He has thrown us into the underside of our own consciousness, into a magical, intangible dimension. You can't get physically hurt here, and you can't die, but you can go mad.

“Don't be afraid,” the president's son tried to reassure me. “It's relatively safe here.”

The silence of the forest was broken by a low wolf howl.

“Most of the time,” he added with a grin.

I smiled back with an ‘I've got nothing to lose’ look. Why should I be afraid of animals when I have a bomb around my neck? I reached for my collar, but my fingers touched nothing but emptiness. I groped around in disbelief, but the collar, like the ten-metre chain, didn't exist in this world.

So I can go wherever I want? The thought of not having to shadow Grant warmed my soul.

“Your father is a sadistic man. What sane person would send his child down the road to madness?”

“Don't say that. Oblivion isn't as scary as they say. And nothing has happened to me yet. I haven't gone mad.”

“I wouldn't be too sure of that if I were you.”

The guy glanced at me reproachfully, but instead of mocking me, he enlightened me: “My father sometimes sends me here when I lose control of my magic.”

“I have found out what magic you have. You don't look like you have that kind of passion in you. Fire doesn't suit you at all. How often do you have these bursts of uncontrollable power? What causes them? I thought magic couldn't get out of control that easily.”

“Normally, it wouldn't get out of hand. But the emergence of the second gift makes the first one rebel. Until I master the magic of emotion control, my powers won't be able to balance each other.”

“I don't envy your fate,” I said.

Not everyone had a second, or even a third gift, but in all ages these people were considered special, blessed by heaven and worthy. Who knew that with this ‘grace from heaven’ came the difficulty of controlling one's own magic.

“How long do we have to stay here?”

“Until I've used up all my magic,” Grant said succinctly.

“So what are we going to do?” I looked around for some interesting scenery, but the forest location looked pathetic, to say the least.

“We can do nothing. Last time I was here for two days,” said the guy in a relaxed mood.

“Is there any other option?” I didn't want to die of boredom before my time.

“To try and complete one of the Labyrinths.”

Well, no, that's not what I signed up for. Looking for trouble on my own head has never been a hobby of mine.

Unfortunately, they usually found me on their own.

The guy got up, rubbed his shoulder, and headed for the bushes, ignoring the wide road that led north.

“And where are you going?”

I thought he wouldn't answer me, as the pause lengthened, but Grant turned around, lowered the branch so he could see better, gave me a sharp look with his black eyes, and with a bitter grin he said, “To face my own fears, Siri. What do you fear more than anything else in the world?”

With a promisingly evil chuckle, he continued on his way, leaving me to puzzle over his words. It was known that many people went mad in Oblivion. Why was that?

If I understood Grant's hint correctly, it was that in the Labyrinths you could come across something that caused hiccups, greying or acute heart attacks.

I sighed, looked up at the sky where dark clouds were gathering, felt sorry for myself for a few moments, then stepped resolutely into the thicket, replaying the president's last words in my head. I had no desire to help his son, but over the past few days I had become so accustomed to following Circul that it seemed wrong and almost impossible to leave him.

Under a layer of last year's sun-burnt leaves, my companion dug out a rucksack and a sleeping bag with a tent.

I couldn't help but ask, “I see you've prepared?”

“Of course. It's not the first time I've been here. You can find a lot of useful things in these lands if you know what to look for and where to look,” the guy untied the straps, checked that everything was in its place, then put on the rucksack and threw me a sleeping bag, a slightly damp plaid, still wet from the dew, and a heavy tent, probably made in the Middle Ages.

I dodged the flying objects with dexterity, not even resenting the way things were going. I was used to the fact that Circul Jr didn't usually know how to pass objects, either throwing them without warning or with a warning two moments before they hit me.

I opened the bag with the awning, examined the wooden stakes, the shabby tarpaulin, the old crumbling ropes.

“Do we need a tent?”

“Of course we do, Siri. You have no idea what the weather is like out here. In five minutes there could be hail or snow, a blizzard or a sandstorm. You'll be warmer and safer in a tent.”

With a sigh I threw the tent bag over my shoulder, picked up the plaid with my other hand and, feeling like a draught horse, hurried after the young man.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To the nearest Labyrinth. Let's hope the tests in there don't cost us life, blood and a lot of nerves.”

“Oh, you're so good at escalating things,” I grumbled.

Grant said nothing; he was thoughtful and silent. And his taciturn mood, which had come over him after the Hole incident, made me nervous. Before, he couldn't sit still for five minutes without grumbling about life or commenting on my expression, for example.

Now he didn't look like himself, which made me feel uncomfortable.

The sky had already darkened and cleared several times, and the rain was falling in large drops as we made our way through the thicket. The trees parted ahead of us and we found ourselves in the backyard of an abandoned three-storey house. Almost all the windows were boarded up, only the small round window under the roof glittered with glass. The old dwelling creaked and swayed, though there was no wind as we walked to the front door.

“We're not going over there, are we?” I froze, unable to take another step towards this ‘horror film set’.

As if to echo my mood, thunder rumbled somewhere above.

“Are you afraid of death, Siri?” my companion asked ominously, frightening an already frightened me.

“No,” I was honest about it.

“So what do you fear, Siri?” Grant asked with a chuckle, staring at the crooked door of the mansion.

I said the first thing that came to mind: “Spiders and other arthropods. Just the phrase ‘there's a spider in there’ makes me want to leave the country.”

He smiled at my unfunny joke. “Let's hope it's not the Labyrinth of Fears.”

“Fears?”

“To get through it, you must overcome your...”

“I get it. You don't have to keep explaining.”

Grant nodded, lit a fire flower in the palm of his hand and stepped onto the first step of the porch.

“Have you been through this labyrinth before?”

“Yes.”

We opened the front door with a deafening creak and squeezed inside.

“So? You're not afraid of anything anymore?”

The guy turned and, with the look of a wise sensei enlightening a misguided disciple, replied, “I have overcome those fears, but many new ones may have arisen since then.”

The flame petals played light and shadow on Circul’s face, making it appear more serious. Even the eternal devilish glint in his eyes faded.

“Yeah, like the fear of poisoning yourself with dumplings,” suggested I.

The guy snorted, returning to his earlier malicious mood. “Or the fear of being chained to you forever.”

“Yes, till death do us part.”

“I'd rather die here... the sight of your grey hair and loose teeth doesn't appeal to me.”

“Likewise.”

We exchanged words until the corridor led us into a small hall. Grant threw a flaming bud up to the ceiling. It was like a light bulb, illuminating most of the room.

“Omg, Siri, don't look, there's a spider in there,” Grant warned.

Should I say that I turned around immediately?

Unless my eyesight was failing me, a furry member of the spider class, that could rival some kittens in size (particularly large and overeating tiger kittens), was staring at us from the corner.

“Right...” my companion threw the rucksack from his shoulder, unfastened the straps cold-bloodedly and began to rummage in the depths of the main compartment, “It was here somewhere.”

A few seconds later, the side of an almost new stainless pot glistened in the light. Aiming, the guy threw a steel trap over the occupant of the house and then slowly approached his ‘prey’.

“If the spider disappears, it means it was the embodiment of your fear. If it doesn't, we'll just kill it.”

I nodded, but backed away, wanting to get away from the epicentre of a possible future kill. And it wasn't like this spider was going to give up so easily.

Circul lifted the pot, there was no one underneath it.

Grant looked at me. I looked at him.

I swallowed, feeling the icy tentacles of fear grip the inside of my stomach.

“Get your things, we're burning this place down. I'm not coming back here. Who knows what other phobias you have?” said Circul and ran away.